


Life of a Dummy

by DizzilySpiraling



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Other, POV Dummy, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2442152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzilySpiraling/pseuds/DizzilySpiraling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Eey's work in Play Mating. This is from perspective of a dummy used to train Alphas how to (not) knot during play mating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life of a Dummy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eeyore9990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/gifts).
  * Inspired by [License to Knot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438750) by [eeyore9990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990). 



> A/N: Due to my overwhelming love for Eey and the fact that she wrote play mating with just the tip, here is a crack fic from perspective of the play mating dummies Alphas practice on. In my head they resemble the CPR dummies, but just from torso to about mid-thigh so they’re not too ‘personal’. They have the Ken Doll equivalent of genitals, and basically just the one orifice for Alphas to… you know, try not to knot. The big pharma companies make bottles of synthetic hormone to slather onto these dummies to simulate real mating conditions. Without further ado, I present: Adrian the Dummy.

Day 1.

Darkness.

I do not know if this is the beginning of my meagre existence, or if my captors have cruelly wiped my memory. I know that I am being held captive, for I cannot move. My cell is cold, and there is a strong draft above me. I am forced to count the small mercies in life, in that at least the floor below me is soft, cushioned. This small comfort makes me fear for what they have in store. 

Suddenly, voices. So many voices. Is this to be the end of me? It is not enough that my lie is to be taken from me? Will I have to suffer the further humiliation of a crowd watching, jeering, as if my sentence is some sort of… spectacle. 

Soon the voices quiet down. All except for one. His tone is sharp and nasally, I would almost feel a shred of annoyance if not for the sheer amount of fear wracking through my body. He talks for a long time, long enough that I almost slip back into the unconscious. Then he touches me. And I know it is the end. 

Oh cruel, uncaring world. What have I done to deserve such a fate? Such an end? With not even a comforting voice during my last moments?

Death did not come. 

Instead, the touch elicited such feelings. Such urges that I did not think myself capable. A damp cloth was wiped across my body. I knew that it was not dampened with water, for it seemed to excite the previously quietened crowd. The sharp voiced man from before silenced them with a bark, and throughout the commotion did not take his hands off me. I do not know how to feel. 

This man. My captor. Whom I should hate by all means. What is the reason behind his gentleness? Does he seek to break my spirit? 

I feel a pressure. Then, an intrusion.  
My body feels warm. There are currents running underneath my skin that I do not know how to respond to. The intruder still resides within my body, unmoving. The voice drones on. Is this a religious ritual of my captors? More importantly, am I the idol or the sacrifice? 

There is no pain, only what I would label as distracting sensations. The intruder leaves. Another voice approaches. I am penetrated once again. Is this my calling?

Day 37

I have awoken trapped underneath another’s body. Insertion seems to have occurred in my unconsciousness. It is not painful. It has never been so. The movement has become routine. The motions, familiar. I am beginning to differentiate between my captors. They may not be my captors at all, simply prisoners in the same trap, all held to do the bidding of a higher power. 

Day 52

Insertion occurs. This time, I feel a sustained plugging effect. The sharp voice sounds angry. Perhaps the higher powers have been displeased. I do not know what I have done wrong. 

Day 149

My day starts with routine cleansing, powerful jets of water are sprayed over my entire body, as well as the orifice within. Then, warm blasts of air and soft towels dry me. I enjoy the warmth, but know this is only a precursor to hours spent in that cold room. I do not know the purpose of these inner probings. Perhaps it is for health reasons. Perhaps it is a sport, and our captors are watching. I briefly wonder if we are famous in that world, if only as the jesters in their great game. 

Day 220

I have deduced that the sharp voiced one is working for our overlords. He shepherds in the rest of the prisoners, and gives instructions. I understand the time we spend together is some sort of privilege which has been granted, under very strict terms. What physical comforts we are allowed are always supervised by a stringent eye. 

I try not to familiarize myself with the other prisoners, for I know that they will be taken away. I had long given up hope that the ones who have been absent for a time will be back. I know the overlords have taken them. I can only hope that they did not suffer, and that my current companions will have as much time here as possible.

I still do not know what their plan is for me. I can only hope that when I leave this place, I will be reunited with those who have known me before.


End file.
